


Bob-White!!

by SIM (Evaine)



Category: Trixie Belden Mysteries - Julie Campbell Tatham & Kathryn Kenny
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-07
Updated: 2009-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:18:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evaine/pseuds/SIM
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff"><p>To me, this is the logical conclusion of the series begun with The Secret of the Mansion.  It belongs in none of my universes.  It came as a flash of inspiration to me as I was taking a drive and listening to some of my favorite tunes.  I came straight home and began writing.  This was the result.</p></blockquote>





	Bob-White!!

Trixie sat on the porch of Crabapple Farm, gazing out over the dear, familiar sight. It was spring and the crabapple trees were in full bloom in the afternoon sunlight. She was spending many of her days this spring on the porch, enjoying the warmth of the sun after a long winter confined indoors. Even her knees seemed to have stopped aching with such regularity. She smoothed the quilt that covered them, remembering when it had covered the edge of her mother’s bed so many years ago.

Not much had changed at Crabapple Farm over the years. There were still Beldens in the white-framed house: Mart’s boy, Andy, a grandfather now himself. It had been his idea to have the family gathering here this year. There were so many of them now. Mart and Diana’s family, sprawled across the country from coast to coast. Brian and Honey’s two children and their families scattered about New York and Washington. Their son, Matthew, was a state senator. His grandfather, Matt Wheeler, would have been so proud of his namesake. Bobby’s gang was mostly settled in Canada, just over the border, but they tried to make it down every year. Sleepyside still was home to most of her own brood, her eldest daughter still running the school at Ten Acres even though she should be thinking about retirement. And Dan’s family, which had officially become part of hers when his youngest daughter, Fiona, had married her only son, was still based in Sleepyside as well. Trixie loved them all dearly and always looked forward to family gatherings and the chance to catch up with them in person.

What she did not look forward to, however, were the absences. And lately, there seemed to be so many of them. She sighed.

“Hey, Grandma Trix!” Twenty-two-year-old Shae had her grandfather Mangan’s colouring. Wind-swept dark curls and wide dark eyes reminded Trixie so much of Dan. The freckles, however, were a definite Belden trait, as was the insatiable curiosity. The girl had a nose for mysteries.

“Hello, Sweet Pea,” Trixie smiled at her favorite grandchild.

“You looked wistful, Grandma. Is something wrong?” Shae seated herself on the top step of the verandah, close enough to reach out and touch her grandmother.

“I was just remembering those that can’t be here this week,” Trixie told her, reaching out to brush a hand over the girl’s curls. “Your grandfathers especially loved the family reunions. Honey and I always figured it was because they spent so much of their youths with little or no family to speak of.”

“I can remember the both of them lording it over the grill every year,” Andy’s daughter Brynn observed, stepping out on the porch to set a pie to cool in the antique pie cabinet behind Trixie. “And organizing the basketball or football games in the evening.”

“Jim was so upset when he couldn’t play anymore.” Trixie shook her head, now crowned with unruly white curls. “He loved to play with the children,” she said softly.

“Sometimes it was hard to tell who was the bigger kid, Grandpa Mart or Uncle Jim.” Brynn chuckled before heading back into the house. “Uncle Dan used to call them on it all the time.”

“You all were very close, weren’t you, Grandma?” Shae asked, watching the memories play across her grandmother’s remarkably unlined face. She loved talking to Trixie about the “old days” and had secretly been transcribing many of the stories and reminiscences. It was to be her gift to the family at the end of this year’s gathering.

“Amazingly so.” Trixie nodded. “It’s hard to imagine seven young people remaining so close over so many years, isn’t it?” She grinned down at the girl beside her. “You’re angling for a story, aren’t you, missy?” She raised an eyebrow knowingly.

“Yes, ma’am.” Shae chuckled. “Aren’t I always?”

“Yes, sweetie, you are.” Trixie leaned over and plucked a stray crabapple blossom from her granddaughter’s hair. Her blue eyes took on a faraway look as she breathed deeply of its perfume. A sharp twinge, like so many other sharp twinges lately, shot through her and she gasped slightly.

“Are you okay, Grandma Trix?” Shae sat up anxiously, but relaxed as Trixie raised a stubby, gnarled hand.

“I’m fine. You can’t get to my age and not feel it, you know.” She grinned, almost appearing the young girl she had once been.

“Well, I worry,” Shae told her stubbornly, and Trixie realized that she had some Frayne in her as well. It was the chin, stubborn and concerned, that reminded her so suddenly of the love of her long life.

“How about I tell you the story of how each of us became Bob-Whites?” She settled back in the rocking chair, turning her gaze out over the expanse of grass, past the crabapple trees towards the Wheeler preserve. “You’ve only heard it about fifty times,” she added dryly.

“But I love it, Grandma!” Shae protested with a smile. “Start off with the day you met Honey and the most wonderful boy in the world,” she prompted eagerly.

“That was the beginning, you understand. The true beginning. And he was the most wonderful boy in the world.” Trixie ignored the twinge, instead bringing to mind the image of the boy in the torn t-shirt and dungarees asleep in the dilapidated living room of Ten Acres. “It was terribly hot that summer. And new people were moving into the Manor House. They had a daughter, Moms told me. And horses…” Trixie began.

As the afternoon drew on, Trixie wove the tale of the Bob-Whites for her audience of one. The tale of a lonely girl in a family of boys, a poor little rich girl on the hill, a runaway with bright red hair…the tale that was so familiar to both the old woman and the young. She worked in the story of the once good friend who had become a stranger, then become a close friend once again. Then came the tale of the boy from the city, the angry boy who had the most to overcome. Trixie could see them all as she looked out over her family home. Each so dear to her in their own way. Mart and Brian, who she had come to realize were the best brothers she could have asked for. Honey, who became closer to her than any sister could have. Diana, her oldest friend, who shared more tears and laughter with her than she would ever have thought possible. Dan, who became her kindred spirit and biggest champion. And Jim, her beloved Jim, who became the most important person in her life. Jim who loved her beyond any dreams she’d had of being loved. Jim, who had been gone from her life for too long. She still felt him every day, beside her, supporting her, loving her as he had always done. There were times when she could swear she felt him tugging on her curls in that singular way he had.

Suddenly, over the whisper of the breeze in the trees, she heard it. Bob-White!! Bob-White!! Her eyes struggled to focus on the edge of the preserve, where the greenery began to thin out. Heart pounding, breath held, hands slightly shaking, a joy began to blossom deep within her. Her lips pursed to form the clear, unwavering response.

 _Bob-White!! Bob-White!!_

She bounded to her feet filled with energy and anticipation. A radiant smile spread over her features as she moved forward with a strong, determined stride. She could see clearly now and her heart soared. The fiery wave of his hair on his forehead, the sparkle of his emerald eyes, the slight bend of his strong nose, the comfort of his freckled features grinning at her in reply. She broke into a run, free for the first time in a very long while. Crabapple blossoms swirled as she was swept up in the strong, longed-for embrace.

“Grandma!” Brynn’s voice startled Shae into awareness. “She’s … gone.” The older woman’s voice broke as she bent over the small figure in the rocking chair.

Shae spun about on the step, unaware of the tears that were streaming down her freckled cheeks. She reached a hand to touch the frail knees covered with the ancient multi-coloured quilt, her lips curving in a trembling smile.

“She was telling me about those first days, Brynn. The first days of their club, the Bob-Whites of the Glen. The days when she met Grandpa Jim and Aunt Honey and Auntie Di and Grandpa Dan. She told it so well that I could see it!” She blinked back more tears, gazing once again out over the broad lawn towards the preserve.

She dashed away the tears, her eyes caught by flashes of colour. There were more figures now, all young, strong and smiling. All wore red jackets with letters cross-stitched lovingly across the backs. One of the figures, a tall, slender woman with honey-blond hair, held out two jackets. Shae sensed, deep within her, the love they all shared as they enfolded the happy couple into their circle. The breeze strengthened and the blossoms swirled once again.

They were gone. The tall trees swayed in the setting sun. All was peaceful and quiet throughout the glen.

 _Bob-White!! Bob-White!!!_

Shae smiled.

~FIN~

  


**Author's Note:**

> To me, this is the logical conclusion of the series begun with The Secret of the Mansion. It belongs in none of my universes. It came as a flash of inspiration to me as I was taking a drive and listening to some of my favorite tunes. I came straight home and began writing. This was the result.


End file.
